


Relief

by believesinponds



Series: Domestic Bliss [5]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: (not much blood though), Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, len is glad that mick is alive, reaction fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-17 01:25:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5848558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/believesinponds/pseuds/believesinponds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mick almost dies. Len is relieved when he doesn't.</p>
<p>(Reaction to <i>Legends of Tomorrow</i> 1x02.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relief

**Author's Note:**

> This is a reaction fic to 1x02. It can be read as a standalone or as part of my Domestic Bliss series.

_“We got a slight problem,” Mick’s voice called from out of sight._

_Len’s blood ran cold._

_“The owner just came home. You’re not gonna believe who it is.”_

Shit.

_Mick was wincing, there was blood dripping down his face, and Vandal Savage had a fucking gun to his head._

_Len sucked in a breath, his jaw clenching. The asshole had his hand on the back of Mick’s neck, doing god-knows-what to make Mick’s face grimace in pain._

_“Stop struggling,” Savage said. “I’ve had four thousand years of training in every hold and pressure point known. But you already know that, don’t you? That I’m immortal.”_

_Len wrapped his hand around one of the bars on their make-shift prison and sneered. “I’m gonna kill you anyway. That’s a promise.”_

_Mick’s face was scrunching up and Len itched to go for his cold gun and freeze that little fucker’s head. He would need to be nearly as speedy as the Flash to pull it off, but with the right timing it could work._

_“Visitors from another time.” Savage grinned and then he whacked Mick on the head with the butt of his gun. Len’s hands tightened on the bars, his teeth grinding together, as Mick fell to the floor. If he could just reach his gun fast enough…_

_But then Savage was coming closer, picking up Mick’s fallen comm unit, and Len disguised his movement by shifting impatiently._

_“Please.” Savage tossed the unit at them. “Contact your friends. I’m looking forward to seeing at least two of them again.”_

_Len snatched the device from Raymond and activated it, his eyes trained on Mick. Gideon patched him through._

_“I’ll make this short,” he drawled, tearing his gaze away from his husband and leaning against the bars of their cage. “The owner of the mansion we burgled is Vandal Savage.” Len shifted minutely. “He’s really interested in meeting you guys. Especially our_ feathered _friends.”_

_There was no response, but it didn’t matter--they were coming. Len pocketed the comm unit and shifted again, his hands returning to the bars. Mick was still on the floor, a bit worse for the wear, but he was alive and Savage wasn’t holding him in a fucking Vulcan death grip anymore so Len relaxed the tiniest bit._

_But Savage’s next words put Len right back on edge. “Your friends are cowards,” he said._

_“They’ll be here,” Raymond assured him, but it didn’t seem to have an effect. Savage swung the gun down to point at Mick and pulled him up by his jacket._

_“They’re taking too long,” Savage growled._

_Len couldn’t breathe._

_Savage held his gun to Mick’s head and said, “They need an incentive.”_

_There was a sound like an explosion and Len felt his heart turn to ice for a split second. And then the fire appeared and Mick was still moving--not dead, the sound hadn't been a shot at all. He spun around, never happier to see the fiery combination of Jax and the professor. His shoulders slumped with relief when Mick growled, “I’m pissed.”_

_Len closed his eyes and let out a breath._

***

After Mick laid Kendra in one of the chairs in the med bay, Len took his hand and pulled him from the room without so much as a glance at anyone else. Nobody stopped them. He was silent, his fingers wound tightly with Mick’s, and when they finally made it to their room he shoved Mick against the door and kissed him desperately. His hands fisted the front of his husband’s jacket, their bodies pressed together, and Len just let himself _feel_ for a moment.

“Dammit, Mick,” Len said, pulling back just enough to lean their foreheads together. “I’m gonna _fucking_ kill that guy.”

“Not if I get to him first,” Mick growled, his hand sliding up to the back of Len’s head and pulling him in again.

Len lost track of time, which wasn’t something that he typically allowed himself to do, but he was just so damn _relieved_ to have Mick here in his arms, to taste his skin, to feel the warmth radiating from his body. The kiss was hard and rough at first but it morphed into something slow and comforting and Len didn’t want to stop.

Then he heard Mick gasp in a way that sounded too close to pain and he pulled back again.

“Okay?” Len asked, searching Mick’s face.

“Think my forehead’s bleeding again,” Mick said, his voice quiet and rough.

Len pulled back further and took Mick’s head carefully in his hands, tilting it forward to examine the wound. “Come on,” he said, lips pursed. “I’ll clean you up.”

He led Mick into the bathroom, directing him to sit on the toilet while he grabbed the first aid kit. “This gig turned out a lot differently than I expected,” he said, tearing open an antibacterial wipe and dabbing at the cut on Mick’s forehead. The other man sucked a breath in through his teeth but didn’t complain.

“What exactly were you expecting?”

Len folded the wipe and used the clean back side to scrub off the dried blood that had run down Mick’s face. “A fun heist in 1975 without idiot do-gooders tagging along.”

“It's not his fault, Len,” Mick said, nudging him with his knee.

“I know. Still.”

“It was kinda fun at first.”

Len returned Mick’s grin. “True. It _has_ been a while since we had to improvise like that. I forgot what a rush it could be.”

“And I got to burn stuff. I _love_ burning stuff.”

Len rolled his eyes and tossed the dirty wipe in the trash. “I know you do, Mick.” He ripped open a bandaid and stuck it gently over the cut on Mick's head. “There.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to the spot right next to the bandaid.

Mick grabbed his hand and tugged him down for a kiss. “Next time we go in just the two of us.”

Len smiled. “Oh. Don't worry. I already have something in mind.”

“Yeah?”

Len kissed him again. “Yep. It’ll be fun. An no tag-alongs this time.” He stood up straight and offered his hand to Mick, who took it and hoisted himself up.

“I’m beat,” Mick said.

“You and me both. C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

They stripped down to their underwear and tossed their dirty clothes in the hamper. Len usually preferred to sleep in pants, but tonight he wanted to feel Mick’s skin on his, wanted to remember that Mick was okay. Len switched off the lights and then curled into Mick’s side, his head on Mick’s shoulder and his arm resting heavily on his stomach. They were silent for several minutes, soaking in the warmth from each others’ bodies, and then Len spoke up.

“You almost _died_ , Mick.”

Mick tightened his arm around Len’s back. “Didn’t, though.”

Len buried his face in Mick’s neck. “If you ever die I will ice you.”

He felt Mick’s lips on the top of his head. “Yeah, well if you ever die I’ll make everything burn.”

“So it’s agreed. No dying.”

“No dying.”

Len let out a long breath. “Good.”

They fell back into a comfortable silence.

When he was close to drifting off, Len muttered, “Good night, Mick.”

He felt Mick’s lips press softly against his head again.

“G’night, Lenny.”

And then he was asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Let’s just say that the final scene in this episode happens the next morning, yeah?


End file.
